


Burn All The Bruised Up Memories (I'll Make Sure We Let Them Go)

by MalachiWalker



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora just has a lot of Regret™ and jumps on the chance to do something about it, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra gets some long overdue emotional validation, Catra is a hot jerk bartender with a sexy suit and a string of bad life decisions, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mara is Adora's adoptive mom, Past Child Abuse, Shadow Weaver is Catra's foster parent, assumed past catrouble but it's a little more complicated than that, exes to friends to lovers, gratuitous use of flashbacks as emotional exposition, hindsight's 20/20 and also a BITCH, the hybrids are still hybrids because I know what I'm about, this goes swimmingly for everyone involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23079343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalachiWalker/pseuds/MalachiWalker
Summary: "Run away with me? Please?"Adora is twenty five years old, a freelance graphic designer free from the shackles of her podunk hometown... and still very much hung up on the screw-up that cost her her best friend and first love . She's had years to think about the "should have beens" and try to live with it... Until a viral video of the "world's worst public break-up" sends her careening back into Catra's life, and just maybe gets her a second chance to get things right in the process.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 272





	Burn All The Bruised Up Memories (I'll Make Sure We Let Them Go)

**Author's Note:**

> General warnings for Shadow Weaver and her usual crap, as well as offhand victim blaming and general mockery (this is not presented as a good thing.) Also Glimmer starting off as kind of an asshole, but much like canon she's trying. And some brief, non graphic mentions of sex. Ooga booga.
> 
> If anyone's here from Rhythm and Blues, I'm just taking a brief creative hiatus since the last chapter took a lot out of me. I'm planning to get back to it soon, but in the meantime, enjoy.

"Run away with me? Please?"

"... Where would we even go?"

"I don't care. Anywhere that isn't here."

"Catra... C'mon. We haven't even finished high school yet. How are we going to take care of ourselves when we don't even have the bare minimum of education?"

"We'll figure it out! We can do anything as long as we have each other."

"..."

"Adora... Please. I can't take it anymore."

"... Go home."

_Gods, I was so stupid._

"... What?"

_I never thought she could look that small._

"We start back to school tomorrow and it's three am and we can't keep doing this. You can't just keep getting into fights with your mom-"

"She's not my mom!"

 _"Fine!_ You can't keep getting into fights with Ms. Weaver and run over here expecting me to just kiss it better! Not when you never make an effort to _do_ any better!"

"Adora..."

"Just go home, Catra! Go home and don't cause any more problems!"

_Her face was like the sound of breaking mirrors. I never knew just looking at someone could hurt like that._

"... We're through."

"Catra..."

"Don't touch me! ... We're done here. If I'm that much of a problem to you...!"

"Catra, that isn't what I-"

"Really? Then what the fuck _did_ you mean, Adora?"

"..."

"... That's what I thought. Don't ever come near me again."

"Catra!"

"Fuck you! I don't need your condescending pity and I don't need you! I'll do just fine on my own!"

"Catra... We've been friends our whole lives. Doesn't that mean anything?"

_I can still see her sometimes, facing away from me as she pauses on the windowsill. Always facing away._

"I don't know, Adora. Does it?"

_Young, dumb, in love and completely stupid. Yeah... That's about right._

_I spent weeks trying to work up the courage to apologize. But at the end of October, she was gone. And it would be years before I finally figured out how badly I hurt her that night._

\----------

It was back to school season that did it. Months of minding her own business and doing her best to avoid thinking about the biggest fuck up of her life, then suddenly the stores were flooded with sales of office supplies and other such nonsense and it was all Adora could do not to scream her head off to the mild concern of an otherwise indifferent universe.

She was rational enough to know that it wasn't like the cosmos was taking a dig at her personally, but the constant reminder never ceased to feel like a triple edged knife twisting relentlessly in the old wound.

 _Fuck this,_ she thought to herself as she grabbed the first tablet pen that looked halfway decent and stalked to the register. _Fuck this season and fuck the deadline that means I can't just hole up in the apartment and wait until my replacement Wacom pen comes and fuck my stupid fixation on my own stupid fuck ups-!_

"M-Ma'am? Are you alright?"

"Huh?" Adora blinked, snapping out of her spiral and offering a tight smile to the nervous and somewhat sweaty teenager behind the counter. If anything, he looked more nervous. "I'm fine. Just a really bad day."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that. Hope it gets better."

"Thanks for that." It was very likely a false hope, but she appreciated the sentiment.

"We've Got All You Need For Back To School!" a cheery, hand drawn sign with a smiley face on it taunted her out of the corner of her vision as she left the store.

Piling into her jeep and tossing her new emergency backup pen on the passenger seat, Adora sighed, resting her head on the steering wheel and trying to forestall the oncoming tension headache--even if only so she could drive home and finish this commission before crawling into her bed and moping for the rest of the day.

_"Hey, Catra, hang on," Her seventeen year old self said as her fingertips brushed over a rough circle at the base of one ear, so different in texture from the silky smoothness of her fur. "What's this?"_

_Catra paused from where she'd been kissing her way down Adora's neck toward the collar of her shirt. "It's nothing."_

_"Are you sure?" It had felt too symmetrical to be natural. Almost like..._

_"Positive. Now can I continue, or are you gonna hurt my feelings some more? I can't be_ _ that _ _bad at this."_

_"Oh please. If anything, you need a little humility," After all, the first time they'd had sex the sheer number of marks littering Adora's neck had gotten her awkward glances for most of the week. Meanwhile, Catra--very little visible through her fur--had just sported the biggest shit-eating grin imaginable every time anyone looked her way._

_At least until Adora had turned the tables on her and returned that particular favor a few days later._

_"Aww... That may be the sweetest thing you've ever said to me, Princess," Catra revisited that old expression with gusto, mismatched eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know... Aside from this."_

_Then she bit down at the weak spot on Adora's collarbone while snaking a hand up her shirt, and between the low moans and gasps of each other's names that followed there hadn't been a whole lot more said that night._

It was only years later, when all the millions of little hints and pieces that were so obvious in hindsight had come together, that Adora realized the mark had been the perfect size and shape for a cigarette burn.

"It's done," She told herself, straightening up and ignoring the dull pang in her chest. "You fucked up and now you get to live with it."

Easier said than actually done. Twenty five years old, lungs still burning with the apologies she never got to make, Adora started up the Jeep and headed for home.

\----------

She'd met Glimmer and Bow in sophomore year in college, and after three years laboring in the trenches together it had only seemed natural that they'd end up as roommates.

It was a strange combination: a graphics designer, a physical therapist, and a business administrator all living together under the same roof as actual _friends_ , but Adora had first met and gotten acquainted with Bow in a yoga class she'd been taking for stress relief. And when one is friends with Bow, they're bound to end up being friends with Glimmer eventually, once she'd deemed them "worthy" of her lifelong bff's kindness.

Not that Glimmer wasn't Adora's friend too, mind. It had just taken them longer to get there. After all, it wasn't like she had a whole lot of experience in the fine art of making friends.

She'd never needed to, before.

_"Hey, Adora..."_

Shaking the ghosts out of her head, Adora adjusted her work glasses and stared down at her tablet screen. She'd recently been contracted by a small coffee shop that was looking to open a second location and wanted to overhaul their image to match. Adora had been a little disappointed--she'd liked the cozy, laid-back atmosphere of the first shop--but money was money. She had a meeting with them at the end of the week to go over her preliminary designs and pick which ones to further refine.

From the direction of the living room, she heard a loud cackle. "Oh man, Bow! You're not gonna believe this!"

Saving her work and setting the tablet on it's charger, she glanced at the clock. _4:45. Guess traffic was merciful today. Didn't even realize they were home._

Removing her glasses and setting them atop the tablet for later, Adora stood and stretched luxuriously, relishing the popping of her joints. She'd been at it for nearly five hours since her trip to the store. Might as well go see what Glimmer and Bow were up to (and maybe snag a last piece of the key lime pie Bow had made as a goodbye-to-summer hurrah.)

Exiting the hall into the kitchen, she raised an eyebrow at Glimmer and Bow perched on the island barstools, each with one half of a pair of earbuds, Glimmer shaking with barely repressed laughter while Bow only looked mildly amused, and fairly conflicted at that. "Do I even want to know?"

"Maybe not, but I'll tell you anyway," Glimmer grinned, taking a deep breath as she paused whatever video they'd been watching and removed the headphones. "You know that club Bow and I like to hang out at sometimes?"

"Yeah. What's it called again?"

"The Fright Zone," Bow gave a self-indulgent eye roll. "It's got such a 'Greetings, youths' vibe to it that it's not even funny."

"I think the design clash is part of the fun, even if it would give Adora a stroke. It's like someone wanted a classy, thirties style bar and someone else wanted a neon hellscape and then instead of fighting it out for dominance they decided to split it down the middle. It's a hot mess."

"Ok, review time over," Adora cut in as she helped herself to a slice of the pie and began chowing down. "As much as I appreciate it, I'm not seeing where this is going."

"Oh you will, my young padawan," Glimmer winked, making Adora regret ever having taken her to that Star Wars marathon at the theater while Bow was finals crunching. "You remember Bow and I complaining about how the head bartender and DJ are total assholes?"

"I never said that."

"You were thinking it, don't even pretend. We all know you've got a catty bitch lurking somewhere in your soul, Bow. Let. Him. OUT."

"Ok, yeah," Adora interrupted again, unable to help cracking a smile at the back and forth. "I remember all about 'asshole-fuckboi-but-still-pretty-hot bartender' and 'two-faced shady bastard thot DJ.' Where are we going with this?"

"Apparently a month ago near closing time, the two of them got into a big fight," Bow explained. "Of the 'massively public break-up' variety."

"Which, shoulda seen _that_ coming," Glimmer rolled her eyes. "They're always tag teaming off one another to be jerks and insult everyone else. Makes sense that they were the only ones who could stand each other."

"I mean... It obviously didn't work out in the long run."

"Guys, focus. Point of the story slipping away."

"Right, right, right. Anyway, so DJ and bartender get into a big ol' fight and start tearing each other a new one. Turns out someone in the crowd had a camera and recorded the whole thing. Took a little while to gather steam, but now it's gone viral. Been laughing my ass off since I saw it this morning."

Adora frowned. "That's a little messed up, Glim."

"Ah, let me have my fun. You've never even met this jackass. The first time I went to the club, she asked me what drink I wanted and I told her to surprise me. And what did I get?"

"A Shirley Temple."

"Right? And then when I complain she just gives me this hot jerk smirk and says, 'Just fittin' the drink to the customer, Sparkles.' Ugh! I put a lot of effort into my look that night!"

"Yeah, but she did make you a pretty great Hurricane after," Bow pointed out. "You just never asked to be surprised again."

"True, but she's always got some snide comment to share. It'd be easier to brush aside if she wasn't so damn hot. It's biphobia, that's what it is!"

"How is that biphobia?" Adora asked with a laugh.

"Because I've got big bi energy and I feel attacked. That's how. Stupid sexy asshole bartender."

"But at least she's better than that DJ," Bow said. "They'll play nice and sweet long enough to lull you into a false sense of security, then bust out the insults. At least with the bartender, you know where you stand."

"Right. At least fifteen feet away and with a sheet of glass between you."

Adora sighed theatrically, cuffing the remnants of the meringue from the corners of her lips. "Remind me again why you two keep going to this place?"

"Because the dance floor is always hot and the drinks are fantastic. And the scenery's pretty nice when it doesn't open it's mouth."

"I'm beginning to think that avoiding that HR job was the right call for you."

"Shut it, Adora. Come with us sometime and experience the majesty, then you can pass judgement on me."

"I'll pass," Adora affected a yawn. "Not really my scene, but you do you, Glimmer."

"Oh, I intend to," She grinned toothily and hit play on her screen.

"You know, you've been having a real attitude problem lately, kitten," A silky smooth voice emanated from the phone's speakers, rendered slightly tinny by the recording. "If you have such an objection to going out with me, then what are we even doing?"

Adora was halfway through putting her plate in the dishwasher when the reply came, making her freeze in place.

"Ha! You know, for someone who doesn't like to be collared, you sure are yanking hard on that leash, DT."

The blood drained from Adora's face. No way. It couldn't be.

Forgoing the dishwasher and slamming her plate in the sink instead, she skidded around the island corner in her socks and jostled Bow aside with a muttered "Sorry," before grabbing at the phone and straightening it so she could watch.

At first she couldn't see anything but the crowd. Then the phone's owner managed to jostle themselves forward, and there she was.

Even after years, there was no mistaking her: the way her shoulders hunched defensively forward, claws balled into fists to keep herself grounded, tail wrapped protectively around one leg and ears back against her skull. And her voice... That voice had been echoing in Adora's head over the years until it was virtually unmistakable.

Catra.

She'd missed a few lines between the movement and the rush of blood in her ears, but then Catra snarled again. "I'm trying to change you? Since when have I asked you to change fucking anything? I want a night in by myself for once, and suddenly _I'm_ the problem?"

"Oh, wanting a little independence is never a problem. In fact, I approve of it," The DJ, a tall, whip-like figure with pale green skin and a yellow undercut, drawled in return. "Except you keep doing it, and you've gotten a lot less fun to play with even when you are around. So which is it, kitten: wanting a night in or spending the night moping because I'm out with other people?"

Catra laughed bitterly. "Wow. Thinking a little highly of yourself there. What makes you think you have any bearing on what I do?"

"This entire conversation, for one. And we both know you only get really ugly when you want to drive people away."

Adora's stomach lurched. _'I don't need your condescending pity and I don't need you! I'll do just fine on my own!'_

" _I_ drive people away? Like you aren't the reigning champ of the two-faced backstab? Wow. Just wow, DT," Catra cackled, high pitched and a little irritating and it made Adora _ache_ because she could still recognize her normal laugh buried deep underneath. Then she straightened, leveling a piercing glare at DT. "Well then, this'll be a new one. I won't even try to 'drive' you away. You just have to stand there and watch me _walk._ "

She turned on her heel and started to make good on that promise. Behind her, DT's tail lashed in obvious irritation, their calculated aura of disdain shifting into something distinctly sharper.

"Sure, go ahead and walk away. And while you're at it, maybe consider leaving those mommy issues of yours at the door."

Adora stopped breathing, barely registering the small chuckle beside her and only just fighting down the urge to put an elbow to Glimmer's side. _They fucking said WHAT._

Catra stopped dead in her tracks, one foot halfway off the ground and even with the video quality Adora could tell she was shaking. A titter of laughter rippled through the gathered crowd.

The phone dipped for a moment as someone beside the phone's owner grabbed their attention. "Go figure, right? With that bitch?"

There was a laugh in response. "Talk about a cliché. 'Boo hoo, mommy didn't hug me enough.' Ha!"

Adora remembered being eight years old the first time Catra slipped through her bedroom window in the middle of the night, too young and too sheltered to think the shaking of her frame was from anything other than the cold. The way her ears and tail--usually so lively and expressive, at least around Adora--were pressed tight against her body and wouldn't loosen for the entire night. There were literal miles between their houses, but still... when things got bad, Catra always came to Adora.

It wasn't funny. None of it was funny.

On screen, Catra finally seemed to register the laughter. Adora saw the exact moment her shoulders slumped, when all the fight drained out of her and it _hurt._

 _C'mon,_ her brain urged desperately. _This isn't like you. Fight back, make a snarky quip, just do_ _something!_

Catra turned to look back at the DJ, her movements unsteady, almost punch-drunk. There was nothing on her face, no anger, no scorn. Just a devastating blankness.

"Y'know, DT," She said, the words barely audible in the video. "I think that's the difference between you and me. Yeah, I'm a total asshole. But at least I don't pretend to be a better person than I actually am. And you know what?

"I trusted you."

DT's ears drooped, the scornful look dropping away until it was replaced by... Guilt? Remorse? Adora didn't know them well enough to make that call, nor did she really care when her eyes fixed themselves on Catra.

Catra's right hand went to the opposite shoulder, gripping and kneading at it: a nervous tic that she'd had since childhood. She barked a short, joyless simulacra of a laugh. "But I guess that's my own fucking fault."

Then she turned and walked away, and after waiting a few seconds to see if there would be any more words exchanged, the video ended.

"Not bad, huh?" Glimmer asked, exiting out of her browser. "Some pretty good quips thrown around."

Adora fixed her with a glare and Glimmer backed up hastily. Bow quickly grabbed Adora's shoulder, snagging her attention. "Whoa, what's going on? I agree that finding amusement in other people's personal lives is kinda messed up-"

Glimmer grumbled something that distinctly sounded like, "Yeah, I know. Killjoys..."

"-but you're actually pissed right now. So c'mon. Tell us what's going through your head."

Adora's teeth ground together, DT's words blending with her younger self's into possibly the worst remix of all time.

_'Consider leaving those mommy issues of yours at the door.'_

_'Go home, Catra! Go home and don't cause any more problems!'_

She met Bow's eyes, expression still steely but substantially less wrathful. "When does the club open?"

"Umm..." A little thrown, Bow quickly checked his watch. "In about four hours."

"Good. You're taking me there. Tonight."

"Um... Adora?" Glimmer chuckled behind her, not out of any amusement anymore, but out of nervous tension. "What's going on? I mean... Okay, yeah, the video's fucked up, but it's not like it's any of our business. Do you really wanna get involved in _that_ trainwreck?"

"This isn't me having a hero complex," Adora growled, sliding off the barstool and stepping back so she could see both of them at once. "And I'm already involved. Because your asshole bartender? She's Catra."

As she said it aloud, it finally hit Adora all at once. _I finally found you. Please tell me it's not too late to say sorry._

"Catra..." Bow chewed at his lower lip, gazing up and to the right as he tried to pinpoint where he'd heard that name before. When his eyes widened and snapped back to her, she knew he'd found it. "Wait, your ex-girlfriend? The one who was abus-?"

He trailed off, unable to complete the thought, and Glimmer paled. But Adora wasn't in the mood to let them off the hook, the part of her that had always been intensely protective of Catra springing back to life after its long dormancy.

"The one who was abused by her foster mom for over a decade? Yeah. _That_ Catra."

There was a moment of long silence before Glimmer said, "Ohhhhh... I'm a baaaaad person."

“You kinda have to be, to enjoy someone else’s suffering,” Adora huffed.

Glimmer flinched, and Bow just looked like he'd kicked a puppy, even if he'd obviously been conflicted about enjoying the vicious takedown. Suddenly Adora’s stomach was feeling queasy with guilt as well. They didn’t _mean_ any harm. At least they hadn’t said something horrible to Catra’s face. That gave them an edge over DT… and Adora.

She sighed, raking a hand through her hair.

“Sorry, I might be overcompensating,” she admitted. “But look, maybe the next time someone's a dick to you, remember that they’re a person too. Everyone has their own shit going on. I’m not saying don’t stand up to bullies, but like... that doesn’t give you an excuse to be awful back, you know?”

Her friends nodded, relieved but thoroughly chastised.

"Anyway, you wanna take a crack at being less of an asshole? Then take me to the Fright Zone. I've got my own apologies to make."

\----------

Adora was twenty and in her second year of college when all the pieces came together... And spontaneously detonated right in her screaming face.

Despite being considered both a liberal arts major and a business major thanks to her chosen specialty, she still had to cover a certain amount of humanities courses. So she'd taken a lit course for fun's sake. Most of the class was friendly enough, if all a little clueless like her, with only one or two actual English majors scattered throughout that could usually be counted on to explain the more complicated ideas.

The only one that bugged her was the one taurus girl who always wore a leather jacket and sat with her back against the wall, even when they split into groups for discussions. She rarely spoke, but when she did it was usually worth listening to. She'd said she was a psych major during day one introductions.

It wasn't her appearance that bothered her. If Adora was being honest with herself, she thought the other girl was actually pretty cool. But there was something about the way she carried herself, the way she moved, the way her eyes would flick over everyone in the room when class started and then settle away for most of the class period... It scratched at the back of Adora's mind in a way she couldn't ignore, like spending days trying to get a piece of popcorn hull free when it lodged in her gums. Picking at it didn't help, but it was hard to leave it be.

It felt like looking in the mirror and forcing herself to actually see all the little details bit by bit. Something so familiar it was unnerving, and she didn't know _why_.

She got her answer toward the end of the semester.

They were covering a particularly complicated book. It had started out light and innocent, all fun and adventurous, but as time went on it had started to get... Darker. Especially as the characters and their relationships started to crack under the pressure.

"I'm just saying," One of her classmates started, his wings fluttering in agitation. "After everything she's done, I don't think she deserves redemption. She's done nothing but hurt everyone around her."

Out of the corner of her eye, the psych major straightened from her usual slouch, the gold rings adorning her horns jingling slightly as she focused her attention on the boy.

"I mean, c'mon. You don't get to wash that away just because you're a little sad."

There was a murmur of agreement among the group and Adora frowned. The boy was right: the character they were discussing had done some terrible things, including turning against her best friend, but there was still something about her that Adora found deeply sympathetic. And familiar.

"You realize she's an abuse victim, right?"

They all stopped, turning from their circle to look at the taurus girl.

"I mean, just look at her interactions with her adoptive mom," She continued, flicking back to earlier sections of the book and Adora could see the pages covered in highlights. "It's subtle, because the bits we and the hero see are deliberately toned down. But when they're alone together, it's pretty obvious. Aggressive body language, death threats, raising her hand to hit her even if we don't see the blow... It all adds up to what's going on off screen."

_"Catra..." Ms. Weaver's voice was a purr as she reached out and put a hand on Catra's shoulder as she stood in the doorway of Mara's house. Catra's tail wound tight around her leg, ears going flat against her head the way they always did when she was being scolded. "Don't you think you've bothered them enough? We really should be getting home before Adora's mother returns."_

_Catra stiffened under the touch, and Adora watched Weaver's hand tighten into a_ _ squeeze_ _. A little gasp of breath, barely audible._

_"Yes, ma'am."_

"And when you add in factors like the extreme startle response, rejection sensitivity, nightmares and episodes of uncontrollable anger, I'd also say we're looking at a major case of chronic PTSD."

"That doesn't excuse her being so awful to everyone else," One of their other classmates said hotly.

"No, it doesn't," The taurus girl conceded coolly. "But look at it in context. Nobody in-universe has acknowledged the abuse is going on. Even her best friend, who was there for most of it, still thinks she's just being a troublemaker. You can't expect somebody to get better if nobody will acknowledge there's a problem in the first place."

 _"I just don't get it," Twelve year old Adora whined, head slumped on the kitchen table attempting (failing) to do her history homework while her mother washed the dishes. "She's fine when it's just the two of us. But she's always causing trouble for everyone else, fighting and stealing and all that. And no matter how often I try to get her to stop, she just won't_ _listen_ _to me!"_

 _"Adora," Mara said, drying her hands on a dishtowel and turning to her. "Catra... Catra's dealing with a lot of things that are hard for other people to understand. It's not your responsibility to control her. You just have to be there for her, as a friend. You_ _ are _ _helping, even if you don't realize it."_

_Adora sighed, remembering the pointed looks the other adults in town gave her when they admitted Catra didn't cause trouble when Adora was around. Judging. Almost like they were asking, "So why can't you do better?"_

_"I still don't get it."_

"Can't she just leave?" Yet another classmate chipped in. "I mean, if she gets away from her adoptive mother she should just be able to shake it off, right? Stop letting the abuse drive her."

"I didn't."

Adora could have heard a pin drop in the quiet that blanketed the room.

The taurus girl just watched them all carefully, measuring her words. "When my father got arrested after finally taking the beatings too far, everybody thought I would just bounce back from what he did. That because I was a kid that meant I'd 'shake it off.' I spent years lashing out and driving people away so I couldn't get hurt again, but it wasn't until I tried to kill myself when I was fifteen that the people around me considered that maybe I needed actual help."

_"You know," Adora murmured softly as she toyed with the crooked end of Catra's tail, the privilege still new and exciting even after a few months of being girlfriends. "The other kids know better than to mess with you, now. You don't always have to keep your tail so close to you."_

_Catra's breath hitched mid-purr, and she shifted against the grass to look up at Adora, suddenly all caution and hard edges and something almost fearful that made Adora_ _very_ _anxious._

_"I'm just saying," She quickly backpedaled. "People might not be so nervous around you if you were a little more... Open?"_

_"No." Catra frowned, giving an emphatic shake of the head. Her tail twitched away. "You and Mara are the only ones I can trust like that."_

"Dozens if not hundreds of people saw what was going on," The girl finished with a shake of her head. "And not a damn one did anything about it until it was almost too late. Because acknowledging what was happening would mean taking responsibility for their own inaction. And if you can't even acknowledge what's written right there on the page-"

She tapped a finger on the cover of the book. "-then what are you refusing to see in your life?"

_"Please... I can't take it anymore."_

There was a sharp crack and a pain in her hand.

"Whoa... Never actually seen anyone snap a pencil like that. Thought it was just a book thing," The winged boy said. Then, seeing Adora's expression, "Whoa, you okay?"

Too many eyes on her. Too much pressing in.

"I- I just need some air," Adora choked out, staggering to her feet and hurrying to the door, all too conscious of the gazes following her progress. Especially one in particular.

Out in the hallway, she headed for the door to the outside balcony, kicking it open and standing in the cold air, letting it fill her lungs. At least here she could pretend the trembling was from the temperature alone.

Hands shaking, she pulled out her phone and hit the speed dial for home. Those three rings felt like the longest seconds of her life.

"Hey, sweetie," Mara's voice was warm, and between that and the shock of realization Adora could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "How have you been? How's school going?"

"Mom..." Adora barely choked out, the sounds of movement on the other end suddenly ceasing. "Why didn't you _tell_ me? About... About Catra."

There was a long moment of silence, long enough for Adora to desperately hope that her adoptive mother hadn't seen the signs, even though her past words ( _things other people wouldn't understand_ ) said otherwise.

"Oh, sweetheart... I am _so_ sorry."

\----------

Adora's pulse was already racing as she got out of Bow's prius and looked across the street to the line of people queued up to get into the Fright Zone. They'd arrived early enough that there weren't that many waiting to get in--especially since it was a weeknight--but enough of a crowd that she could observe for a while and come up with a plan of action before approaching Catra.

Approaching Catra...

Something so simple shouldn't have felt so terrifying.

"You still sure?" Bow asked as he locked the car and tossed the keys to Glimmer to put in her purse for safety. "We can go back home and workshop this if you want. Come back another time."

"No." Adora said firmly, squaring her shoulders and mentally thanking him. She may have been terrified--

_"Don't ever come near me again."_

\--but she could always count on what Mara had affectionately termed her "mule-bloodedness" to kick in when someone tried to stop her from doing something important. "This needs to be now. While everything's still hot. Catra... She's really good at picking up underlying moods. I guess she had to be, living with that woman."

The other two shared a glance, and Adora fought down a sigh. Bow and Glimmer had been there to coach her through the resulting month long breakdown when the truth smacked her in the face, but they hadn't been there. They only knew Catra through Adora's stories... And Catra the bartender was an entirely different concept to them.

"If you say so," Glimmer conceded with a sigh. "I just want to warn you... She might be a lot different from how you remember her. We just don't want you to get hurt."

"This isn't about me. This is about doing what's right."

Her friends shared a quick glance between them, before each patted her on the back and together they walked across the street and got in line.

The bouncer manning the front door was a surprisingly short woman with dreads and pale green eyes who was nonetheless built like a tank, and as her eyes raked over the three of them Adora had little doubt that--height difference or not--she could easily kick all their asses. But then she grinned when she saw Glimmer and Bow.

"Heeeeey," She drawled as she took their IDs and looked them down. "Long time no see. Thought you two had found a new place to get down at."

"Nah," Glimmer replied with a grin of her own. "Just busy with work stuff. But we're here now."

"And I see you brought someone new," She glanced at Adora, raking her eyes over the lowkey dress shirt and slacks she'd picked out for this mission before zeroing in on her shoes. "Word of advice: if you're gonna be dancing, be careful with those boots. We do our best to keep the drinking and dancing separate, but it only takes one inebriated jackass bringing a margarita on the floor to seriously fuck up your ankle."

Adora nodded her thanks for the warning, even though dancing was the last thing on her agenda tonight.

The bouncer, whose name tag read 'Lonnie', finished jotting down their info and lifted the rope. "Enjoy your night, guys."

Glimmer had warned her that the decor "might give Adora an aneurysm." And from a professional standpoint... Oh boy. It was a terrifying study in contrasts. On the left, the dance floor was a wash of neon lights and occasional flashing lasers in all colors. Up top, she could already see the DJ--thankfully not DT, because Adora had no idea how she would avoid marching over there and punching them in the face otherwise--hard at work getting the bodies on the dance floor moving.

The other half, the drinking half, was a lot more subdued. A ridiculously long, ornately carved bar dominated, row upon row of bottles cased behind and glinting ever-so slightly beneath the hanging lights. Everything was blacks and subtle shades of red. It really did look like somebody had plucked it out of an old gangster movie, and already the area surrounding it was packed with thirsty club goers.

Bow tapped Adora's shoulder to get her attention. "Do you want us to stay with you?"

Adora shook her head. "No. I'm gonna watch for a bit. Not to be creepy--I just don't want to risk startling her while she's busy working."

"Well, you might be waiting awhile," Glimmer sighed. "I'll give her this: she does make excellent drinks. We'll check in on you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good luck," Glimmer flashed her a thumbs up before throwing an arm around Bow. "C'mon, let's show the rest of these amateurs how to really dance."

Left alone, Adora slowly made her way through the crush of bodies toward the opposite wall, circling the bar warily as she tried to find a good place to stand and wait. Finding one of the beams supporting the roof, she leaned against it and eyed the crowded bar with the focus of a general preparing an offensive strategy.

The bar didn't have chairs, likely to keep the area open for patrons coming and going. Foot-draggingly slow, people started to filter away from the bar and towards the tables dotting the rest of the space. The crowd gradually thinned until a small cluster of what Adora guessed were college students darted off with cocktails in hand.

And there she was.

Midway through shaking up another cocktail (a vodka martini, if the distinctive glass and jar of olives had anything to say about it) Catra stood with her shoulders squared and her ears swept back against her head, looking for all the world like she was preparing for a war and not just mixing drinks. Pouring the drink into the glass, she plucked an olive with a toothpick and dropped it in before sliding it down the bar and starting another order.

And oh geez. Adora had been so caught up in the details that she had forgotten about the accursed suit. Just to add a cherry on top of the whole gangster aesthetic, each of the club's workers was dressed to the nines in a black vest, matching slacks, and a crimson dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Some wore black ties as well, but Catra seemed to have foregone that in favor of keeping the top button open--probably due to the heat of so many bodies pressed together in one space.

In her eagerness to make things right, she'd completely forgotten just how _handsome_ Catra could be when she made the effort.

_"Hey, Adora," Catra at seventeen, smiling a little bashfully in her rented tux as she offered Adora her hand. "Ready to go?"_

_You here to make amends,_ Adora reminded herself, slapping a hand against one arm. _Not moon over her. Snap out of it. You're not a teenager anymore._

But that was hard to do with a lifetime's worth of memories freely bouncing around her skull ever since she saw that damn video.

"Oh shoot."

Adora jumped, glancing down at Glimmer, who had seemingly materialized beside her. "What? What's up?"

"Well, I mean… Ordinarily..." Glimmer grimaced, gesturing at Catra before sighing. "She's a flair bartender. Pretty good, too. Juggling bottles, ice catching, shoulders flips, the list goes on. She gets _fantastic_ tips. But... She's not flairing right now. And it's been a month since the fight. That's probably not good."

Adora frowned, returning her focus to Catra and cataloguing her body language, the almost lethargic motions as she mechanically worked through the orders.

"Hey, quick question," She murmured, eyes unmoving. "When you and Bow were here before, how were her ears and tail? Moving freely, static?"

"Hmm..." Glimmer tapped a finger to her chin as she focused. "She didn't keep her ears pulled down as hard as they are now, but I'm not remembering a whole lot of active motion either. One time the busboy tripped and busted his entire load of dishes and all that got was a single flick. And I've _never_ seen her tail anywhere other than wrapped around her leg."

Yeah, that wasn't surprising.

"Why, is that new?"

"... Kinda?" Adora grumbled. "Maybe? It's hard to say. She was always a lot more animated around me and my mom. Let her tail hang loose, even sometimes brushed it against us. She held herself back a bit more in school because of course everyone in rural bumfuck likes to make fun of the magicat, but she was still less subdued than... This."

Whatever "this" was. In fact, the only time Adora could remember seeing Catra this expressionless was whenever Ms. Weaver was around. _Yeah, that hindsight sure is a bitch, huh, Miss Sensitive?_

"Well, looks like the crowd's thinning out," Glimmer observed, bumping Adora's shoulder with her own and attempting a reassuring smile. "So you gonna head over there or what?"

And there was that stubborn tenacity again. "Yeah."

Throat tight, palms sweating a little, Adora weaved her way through the crowd to the far left side of the bar where Catra was working. It was getting to be fairly barren beneath the neon lights; most of the other customers were clustered near the other bartender, who appeared to specialize in flaming shots and other such tricks.

In fact, only one customer sauntered up to Catra's side as Adora entered earshot, some jackass in a too-flashy suit with gelled up hair that looked like it crunched. "Hey, Oedipus. Get me a Guiness, why don'tcha?"

Catra froze, shoulders stiffening, and Adora's anger spiked as the patron snickered with obvious glee. _You son of a bitch_.

"Coming right up," Catra muttered, grabbing a pint glass and turning to the taps, and again Adora was struck by a sense of wrongness at how easily she acquiesced to the demand...

... At least until Catra turned back and slammed the drink down on the counter, sloshing a full third of it all over the man's suit.

"Sorry," She deadpanned as he sputtered in disbelief. "I'm a little clumsy tonight. Must have been up late working on those 'mommy issues.' By the way, the proper term would be an Elektra complex, you uneducated dipshit."

"You absolute cu-"

"Maybe you should leave before the stain sets," Catra cut him off, casually buffing her claws against her vest. They glinted beneath the lights, a subtle threat that didn't seem to be lost on the man if the way he paused was any indicator. "After all, if you can't afford a decent tailor, I really doubt you can afford that level of dry cleaning."

There was a long moment of silence, him glaring and Catra flexing her claws, before the man huffed and turned away. "Fucking bitch."

"Like I haven't heard that one before," Catra grumbled, grabbing the half empty glass and turning away to pour the rest out in the sink. Steeling herself, Adora sauntered the rest of the way up to the bar.

"I thought you handled that well."

"Thanks," Catra chuckled, a little darkly. "Guys like that always think they can run their-"

The banter skidded to a halt mid-sentence, her ears flicking back. Without turning, she asked softly. "... Adora?"

Adora smiled wistfully. "Hey, Catra."

"Uh... Hey," Catra turned slowly, carefully, one hand rubbing the opposite shoulder unthinkingly the way she always did when caught off guard. They locked eyes and each paused, just... Taking the other in.

Then there was a shout of surprise from the other end of the bar as a gout of flame erupted into the air, and Catra sighed heavily. "Let me guess. You're here because of a certain video?"

It suddenly hit Adora that after so much time mentally preparing to approach Catra, she had forgotten to think over what she actually wanted to _say_. Apologize, obviously, but just a two-word "I'm sorry" seemed laughably trite after five years of conscious regret, and eight years of just plain sorry. Too small to encompass all the things she needed to tell her.

She half-shrugged, stalling for time. "Indirectly. I would have come either way."

Catra raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't say anything. When Adora again came up with nothing, she sighed again. "Well, what'll it be?"

"Huh?" _Is she challenging me? Am I about to trigger a fight? Fuck, I don't know how to do this-_

"I'm on the clock, Adora," Catra pointed out, tapping a single claw against the glossy surface of the bar. "So if you want to keep talking, you should at least order something so it doesn't look like I'm slacking off."

"Oh, okay," Adora replied, feeling sheepish about jumping to conclusions. Remembering Glimmer's story and maybe--just maybe--wanting to test the waters a bit, she asked, "Surprise me?"

Catra paused, seeming to think for a moment. "... All right."

Turning around, she grabbed a clean highball glass and used a set of tongs to add three extra-large cubes of ice, before asking, "Just wanna check. You're not going to be driving after this, right?"

"Nope. My two roommates are busy tearing up the dance floor as we speak."

"That so?" Catra murmured as she removed a pair of bottles from the shelf, flipping one absentmindedly as she worked. "Good to know. This won't get you drunk if you take it nice and slow, but you won't legally be able to drive either."

"Do you always check?" Adora asked curiously as she watched Catra pour one bottle into a jigger before adding it to the highball, forgoing the measuring with the other.

"When people ask me to surprise them," She replied, adding a thin garnish of lime and paused to consider the drink for a moment before turning on one heel and placing it carefully in front of Adora. "Then yes. I like customers to know what they're getting into."

She tapped the glass with just the tip of one claw. "Dark 'N Stormy. Two parts dark rum to three and a half ginger beer. Sometimes comes with a dash of lime juice, but I usually prefer to go with the original unless specified. Like I said, take it slow. This isn't the kind of thing you can just slam back."

"Never had one before," Adora admitted as she took the glass. She'd had her fair share of college drinking at parties, but by the time she'd been able to afford going to actual bars she'd become rather blasé about the whole thing. Remembering Glimmer's story ( _"Just fitting the drink to the customer, Sparkles."_ ) she tried to casually ask, "How would you describe it?"

For a few anxiety-inducing heartbeats, Catra didn't say anything. Then, "Complicated. Very complicated."

Adora hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip. As expected from rum and ginger beer, it was spicy and had a smokiness to it, but she found herself enjoying the taste. "It's good. How much do I owe you?"

Catra waved a hand dismissively while she grabbed a towel and began wiping down the counter. "On the house. Consider it an overdue prize for being right."

Adora's eyes snapped up. "What do you mean?"

Catra half-shrugged. "I fucked up. Shouldn't have leaned on you as hard as I did. Should've kept my head down and played it safe, for all the good it would have done me."

She laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that sounded like tearing meat; a heart ripping itself apart. "I would have still lost the game in the end, but maybe not quite so bad. Not a whole lot out there for a high school dropout and serial fuckup. But I'll be fine."

A chorus of ghosts filling her head. Catra at age six when her tail got broken "falling out of a tree" and she struggled with walking for over a month and it ended up permanently crooked. Catra at nine, mopping blood away from her nose after her first fight with the older kids. Thirteen, crawling in through Adora's window with chattering teeth and ice crystals in her fur even though the front door was always open to her and snow was falling and their houses were miles apart and the night was so _cold_...

Catra only a few months away from eighteen, turning away and climbing out that same window for the last time.

 _'I'm fine.' 'It's fine.' 'I'll be just fine.'_ The ghosts echoed back at her.

Nothing about it was fine.

"So yeah. Had a stupid fight and got my fifteen minutes of fame. I can live with it. You… You didn't have to come. Unless you're here to make fun of me, in which case you might as well go ahead."

"Why would I make fun of you?!" Adora's voice squeaked, but she didn't care, too caught up with the sheer wrongness of that entire statement.

"Everyone else has taken a crack," Catra shrugged again and Adora was once again struck by the urge to scream at the indifference. "Figure I've more than earned it."

 _Oh my god this is just_ _ wrong _ _say something you absolute dumbass you've had five years to work on this and this is the best you can do-?!_ Adora's jaw worked frantically, but no sound came out.

There was a chirp at Catra's waist, and she paused from washing to dry one hand and fish a cell phone from her pocket. She squinted at the screen under the flashing neon lights emanating from the dance floor before sighing. "Slow night, so they're pulling me to do inventory upstairs. If you want anything else, just talk to Sea Hawk over there--"

She jerked a thumb at the other bartender, currently lining up a row of flaming shots. "--and he'll get you fixed up. Enjoy your drink, Adora."

She turned to walk away.

And Adora panicked, because no matter how sideways this entire thing could go she could _not_ let Catra walk away from it believing she deserved what happened to her. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Weaver's in prison now."

"Paused" was too soft a word for what happened next. "Turned into a goddamn statue" would be a little more accurate. Catra went ramrod straight, like a livewire had been pressed against her spine, and for the first time in the entire night her ears shot up from their safe spot against her head. Even her tail, still coiled around her leg, puffed out to nearly double its usual size.

"... What?"

"She's in prison," Adora repeated as Catra turned back to stare at her, one hand on the counter for support. "After I went to college, turns out she got another foster kid--"

The soft screech of claws against marble.

"--and Mom nailed her. Got Child Protective Services involved before the old bitch could lay down her smokescreen. Last I checked she got fifteen years for child abuse with an additional sentence for fraud against the government, to be served sequentially," Adora took a second the breathe heavily, meeting Catra's stunned gaze head on. "Considering her age, it's unlikely she'll ever get out. She'll be in there for the rest of her life for what she did."

And here came the moment of truth.

"For what she did to both of you."

The words hung heavily in the air. Until Catra blinked, one hand going to her shoulder and gripping tight as she moved back to where Adora was standing and leaned against the counter with her free arm. "... Did Mara tell you?"

"Only after I finally figured it out for myself," Adora noted sadly. "You always did say I was dense."

"What changed?"

"Classmate in college talked about her abuse-" Catra flinched at the word, but Adora was done talking in euphemisms. "And things just finally clicked. All the little bits and pieces came together, like a fucked up jigsaw puzzle."

"Sounds about right," Catra murmured, kneading at the shoulder on autopilot. Then her eyes sharpened. "... Why are you here, Adora? Because if you're trying to poke at the 'mommy issues' I've had plenty of assholes doing that all week and I like to think we weren't so bad together that you'd need to do it too."

"No!" A half shout, and then Adora's hand shot across the counter to grab Catra's other hand where it still rested on the counter. They both froze at the touch, and Adora suddenly became aware that she was breaking all kind of bar etiquette rules (rule #1: don't touch the staff) and--more importantly--just how little she cared.

Because there was the warmth she'd been missing for so long, the texture a little off thanks to some kind of gel plastered across the back of Catra's arm--likely a health and safety code to prevent loose fur from getting in the drinks, but still...

It was her.

"I told you I would have come anyway and I wasn't lying!" Adora blurted out, shoving aside that little bit of awe to focus on the real concern here. "Gods' sake, Catra, who the hell do you take me for?"

Catra stared at her, mouth opened in surprise but Adora kept going, softer now that she had her full attention.

"I came here to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so fucking _sorry._ I was young and I was stupid and I didn't know what was going on and I never should have said _any_ of what I did. You were never a problem, not to me, not to my mom, and the rest of that town can take their smug, self-serving superiority and go fuck themselves with it! And gods, Catra, I've spent five long years wanting to tell you that--"

Adora stopped, mind heavy and the look on Catra's face was that night all over again, but for the cautious glimmer lurking behind the pain. A tiny ray of hope, fighting so hard to keep from smothering out.

"You didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve any of it. Not from Weaver, not from me, not from anyone. And I know I can't take back what happened but I'd give up _anything_ if I could."

Finally running out of words, she settled on the simplest and most honest conclusion she'd ever manage.

"I'm so fucking sorry I hurt you."

They stared at each other. Catra remained quiet; equal parts cautious and hopeful and still so damn beautiful it made Adora's heart hurt no matter how many years stretched between them, whether or not this was the last time.

Then Catra's eyes flicked to the side and a hand came down on Adora's shoulder. Whirling, she saw one of the bouncers: a tall, brawny lizard-kin wearing the same suit but with a bowtie. His eyes darted between Adora and her hand, still clasped against Catra's.

"It's okay, Ro," Catra said softly. "She's an old friend."

He cocked a single scaly brow ridge at Catra before snorting an affirmation and releasing his grip, patting the spot gently as if to say "sorry" before trundling back to his post. As Adora turned back to Catra, mind racing for something to say, there was another loud chirp from Catra's pocket.

Catra sighed heavily, like she was suddenly running on fumes. "I have to get back to work."

Adora nodded numbly in reply, feeling her heart break even though she'd known going in that doing what was right didn't necessarily mean getting what she wanted. And what she wanted...

Catra's hand turned in her grip and threaded their fingers together, just like she always had. Back when they were two tiny kids practically joined at the hip, pubescent menaces getting into and out of trouble together, teenagers not yet old enough to understand the weight of the word "forever," but still young enough to believe wholeheartedly in it.

_"Hey," Catra murmured to her softly the night she turned seventeen, as they curled up together on Adora's bed and listened to the late autumn rains tapping gently on the window. "Promise me something?"_

_And Adora hadn't even needed to think about it, because Catra never asked her for anything no matter how much Adora wanted her to have_ _ everything._ _"I promise."_

_"You haven't even heard what I want yet."_

_Adora's hand found Catra's and blanketed it. "Then tell me so I can promise again."_

_"So certain," Catra laughed, pressing a kiss to the back of Adora's neck before she sobered, arm tightening around Adora as if to assure herself she was still there._

_"Promise me that no matter how this goes... I'll always have you."_

_It didn't even take a second._

_"Duh," Adora laughed in return. "You look out for me, and I look out for you, remember?"_

_"Yeah," She could feel the curve of Catra's smile even if she couldn't see it. "I remember._

_"Like I could ever forget."_

"Always" was the most loaded word in the universe, but some things... Some things lasted. Like the way Catra's hand felt in Adora's, the way looking at her made her heart go haywire and her brain too dumb to put those feelings into coherent words, and the way Adora had never, ever stopped regretting turning that "always" into a ragged scar across both their hearts.

But that didn't mean it had to always stay that way.

Catra's hand squeezed hers, tighter than it ever had, and pulled away. "Bye, Adora."

Then she was gone, weaving her way out from behind the bar and to the roped off stairs leading to the second floor.

Alone again, Adora took another drink of her Dark 'N' Stormy, the taste now as bittersweet as her mood. So that was it then. She'd done what she came to do. She could tie everything about the past up with a neat little bow and set it aside, because it was now over and done.

Except that it wasn't. Because some things didn't end.

Pulling out her wallet, she grabbed a spare business card and located a bar pen, flipping the card over and praying to any god who would listen that Catra had retained her unique talent of interpreting Adora's chicken scratch as she jotted down the number of her personal cell, as well as a message.

_'You don't have to use the number if you don't want to. But I want you to have it anyway.'_

Adora paused, wondering if she should go there, risk screwing this all up by poking at old scars. But she needed Catra to know.

_'I couldn't forget, either.'_

Message complete, she walked to where the other bartender had finally let up on the fire and tapped the bar to get his attention. Seeing the card in hand, he furiously gesticulated, "My apologies, miss, but I'm in a dedicated relationship with the lovely Mer-"

"Sorry, no," Adora cut him off gently, giving him a moment to sigh in relief. "Can you give this to Catra when you see her again?"

"Oh," He took the card with a little look of wonder, tucking it into the pocket of his vest and giving it a quick pat to show it was safe and secure. "Most certainly. I will try to have it delivered by the end of the night, or my name isn't Sea Hawk!"

"Thanks, 'Sea Hawk,'" Adora replied with a small but genuine smile, before turning on her heel and texting Glimmer and Bow to meet her at the door.

They arrived maybe a minute after her, both still coated in a thin sheen of sweat and breathing heavy. But they each smiled at Adora and nudged her softly with an arm to avoid messing up her dress clothes.

"Hey there," Bow said gently. "Did you get to do everything you wanted?"

Adora considered that, before finally settling on, "Maybe."

She'd certainly accomplished all the things she'd wanted when she first came in. But now... There were a lot more things she wanted now, things she had thought long buried that had turned out to be merely sleeping.

But the way forward lay in Catra's hands. Adora owed her that much. All she could do now was wait, and hope.

\----------

The next week passed in a slow agony, like being steadily drowned beneath a leaking vat of molasses.

Adora had known going in that it was possible, nay, _probable_ that Catra would want to leave their single meeting at that. Let the past stay where they'd both left it in a small town six hours' drive away: buried ten feet under the train tracks they used to ramble along, intersected with the only road out of town.

Adora had known the risks going in, and she didn't regret doing the right thing, but that didn't make the pain she felt every time she checked her phone only to find a client or a text from Bow asking what she wanted for dinner or Glimmer complaining about how much she hated office politics any more bearable.

"You did the right thing, sweetheart," Mara had told her on day three when Adora called to fill her in on what had happened. "I love Catra like another daughter, and I want her to be a part of your life again as much as you do. But sometimes doing the right thing is all we can do."

If it was what was right, then why did it have to hurt so bad?

Day seven arrived and Adora resigned herself to her moral victory, settling down to work on the revised designs for the coffee shop when her cell phone rang. Mind still filled with technical details, she flipped it open and answered without thinking. "Hello? This is Adora-"

"Yeah," A voice on the other end drawled. "I should hope so."

And there went all of those design thoughts, catapulting off into the distance the instant she heard that voice again. "... Catra?"

"Hey, Adora. How's it hanging?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Breathe in, breathe out/Give it up, you'll never leave this town./Last call, lost cause (Who's counting?)/Last call, lost cause, who's counting now?


End file.
